


Reacquintaince

by sparklight



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Dream Sex, Multi, Spark Sexual Interfacing, Spitroasting, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 12:42:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19318414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparklight/pseuds/sparklight
Summary: Elita, Optimus and Megatron. Spark sex leading to a three-way connection through a very old spark bond, trying to include a third that's very put upon by not being able to be physically present.Will Optimus and Elita be able to convince Megatron to stop being contrary and give in?





	Reacquintaince

**Author's Note:**

> This is an old fic I found today and rewrote as it fit me, because I really liked what I had written but it did need some touchups.

Despite every effort, they'd been unable to keep the Autobots from establishing a proper spacebridge link with Cybertron - not only did this mean they could potentially have access to more resources, but they also could have more _reinforcements_. In both directions. Currently that reinforcement was from Cybertron to Earth.

And being very, very enthusiastic about it, too.

Scowling, Megatron paced his quarters, a ghostly crawl of static electricity in his circuits and his spark trying to react to extra charge that wasn't there. This was the other reason he'd have preferred it if the forces on Cybertron had _stayed_ stuck on Cybertron, separate from the Earth forces. Optimus and Elita had, of course, wanted to get reacquainted as soon as Elita and her hand picked group had come over, and couldn't have kept it to simple physical interface.

No, it had to be full-on spark merge.

His spark flickered and pulsed along with the distant echoes from their activity and the bare sip he'd taken from the cube was aborted as Megatron snarled and tossed the whole thing against the wall, the energy field destabilising and energon splattering everywhere. Waste of good energon, now that Starscream had managed to built a converter effective enough to work with Earth's natural resources, and no longer needed to settle for the substandard raw energy collected. Another spike, indistinct and yet making his spark heave with something that just wasn't there, and Megatron slammed his fist into the wall, relishing the momentary distraction of minimal pain.

They couldn't have waited until he was in recharge, at least? It would be far easier to ignore, and at the most he might have contributed the relayed sensations to a charged recharge reimagery, blissfully left out of full awareness of what they were doing. Not that he held any illusions of consideration from the two of them, but---

The ghostly connection that had his spark react to the distant sparkmerge _flared_ and Megatron gritted his teeth. Now they were surely just doing it on purpose, taunting him with what he couldn't have (wouldn't _want_ to have, he told himself). Snarling, Megatron threw himself on the berth, throwing an arm over his faceplates. This was a bad idea, already attuned to what they were doing as he was, but perhaps recharging would help as long as he took some precautions. It was probably not necessary anyway, as he doubted they were interested in sharing what little could be shared at a distance. These sensations were most probably unintentional relay through an active bond. A bond he really should have had dissolved ages ago, but with all three of them separate it hadn't mattered.

It wasn't as if he and Optimus would go and get close like _that*_ again, even if the conflict had evolved into a nearly tame facsimile of war. Elita was nowhere near either of them, stuck on Cybertron which meant her part of the bond had been as if the dark side of the Earth's moon, ever present, but unseen and mostly unfelt, a hole Megatron had ignored in favour of focusing on the eternally aggravating closeness of the Prime. Further, anyone either of them interfaced with that wasn't either of the other two wouldn't stir the bond, so physical release was always possible despite their estrangement.

None of that really excused or explained why he would keep a bond that ideologically and physically had torn apart hundred of thousands of vorns ago, but Megatron had simply ignored the... weakness, that implied. The soft nostalgia that kept him from taking a metaphorical fusion cannon to his spark and tear out the past. Perhaps he should, tomorrow. It would ensure this didn't happen again. Grimly resolute, Megatron initiated the recharge cycle, ignoring the tantalising pulls on his spark as he relaxed into the recharge cycle. It was actually a relief to do so; at least he wouldn't be _consciously_ aware of their distant proximity and his spark reacting to what they were doing. Physical sensation and awareness fell away one after the other; last to go was the fitful flex of his spark, tugged along a rhythm he wasn't actually included in.

Despite what he'd expected, awareness crystallised into familiar surroundings and Megatron realised he'd been foolish. Too late, and from being deeply submerged into it, did he recognise the pattern of the pull, his spark synchronising with the distant echo of the other two and thus... this.

It was soothing, actually. A familiarity that let him ignore the faint background pulse for a couple moments at least, and yet rankled with how obsolete it was. His surroundings was a tiny crystal garden that had no real equivalent on Cybertron, being a compromise to fit them all. The elegantly wrought metal table by the seating arrangement held several cradle-stacks of datapads, neatly organised, as well as a couple tools for metal etching, and up against a voltaic cable tree a very familiar sword and shield were resting. It was ages ago he'd seen _those_ weapons, and spotting it, he was struck with a nostalgia that instantly made him furious. 

Scowling, Megatron moved to sit up, and realised he couldn't. Shining energon rope, pulled from the twisting loops of energon-evaporate deposit bushes ringing the clearing wound around his arms and legs, keeping him down against the ground no matter how much he strained. The bushes behind him rustled as they let Optimus and Elita through, the two of them having turned their spark merge into a joint _spark dive_.

"I didn't take either of you for the _viciously_ petty sort. Wasn't it enough for you to spark merge without giving me warning so I could prepare," Megatron hissed, levying his will against the two others, arms tensing - but he got nowhere. He was at a distinct disadvantage here, caught unprepared against two others who were as brilliant and steadfast as he could be bulletheaded. Again, he gathered his will and fury both and _strained_ , the dream-facsimile of his engine roaring where he was silent, and tiny sparks of static electricity showing up in his joints, though the struggle was of course less physical than it was _meta_ physical. Momentarily, the thin, glowing strands keeping his hands tied behind his back and his feet stuck to the ground flickered, ephemeral bonds of will and relayed energy, and then they re-solidified.

Even angry, two wills against one was still two, and neither Elita nor Optimus were _weak-willed_. Further, they had a well of roused spark energy between them to use, and Megatron had been tricked into settling into their rhythm. Even alone, if either one had had the time to prepare and a reason to lay a trap like this, one of them could probably have kept control.

"Honestly, if we were _petty_ you wouldn't be here and we'd have left it at taunting you with the sensations through the bond." Elita's tone was sharp, but her optics were bright with a weight Megatron looked away from. She hadn't expected him to have kept the bond intact, and probably hadn't believed Optimus when he'd confirmed it. She shook her head, refracted light from the many crystals around them glinting off the elegant tines of her helm. "This is just safety precaution." 

A slender, long-fingered hand brushed over his back and briefly curled around the small cannon there - the only 'weapon' he was currently in possession of, though in this place weapons were more a matter of will than what was necessarily visible on the frame. She'd moved from somewhere behind him to _right_ behind him with the indistinct logic ruled by both dreams and imagination, and Megatron's position had shifted accordingly, no longer flat on his back and tied to the ground with a shining net over him. No, instead he was on hands and knees, the seemingly-delicate loops of what _appeared_ to be energon rope, but was really manifestations of Optimus and Elita's combined will, anchoring him to the ground _and_ keeping his limbs tied together. He felt utterly ridiculous and thoroughly humiliated, even more so as a not-so-hesitant arousal had sparked at her light touch, even though it wasn't real. His spark had still shuddered as if it had _actually_ absorbed the charge from that light touch, as if he was _actually_ feeling the input of touch from his sensory nodes.

There was nothing there, and that felt as much of a humiliation as Elita had insisted this wasn't supposed to be.

"'Precaution'? I am hardly interested in attacking either of you mentally," Megatron said with a sneer, silently appending 'anymore' to that sentence, because early on he _had_ contemplated the possibility, less for torture and more for hope of converting one or both of them. He'd put that aside quite soon. "Compared to what you two seem to be doi--- Prime!" The snarl was undercut by jumping, buzzing static, and his attempted kick was of course foiled, hampered as it was by the ropes and Optimus able to see what he was doing more than Megatron could. The hand that had squeezed his aft turned to trail along the angles of his hip joints, teasing the very tips of corners and edges of grooves.

"This is hardly an _attack_ , Megatron, but if you'd prefer to leave that could be arranged as well." Optimus' voice was low and seemed to set his plating vibrating as the words were murmured against the flare of his left shoulder, though that was really just the distant connection making itself known, sentiment and weight of voice relayed along a bond stretched, since none of this was _really_ happening---

Megatron twitched, then stilled, and turned his glare to Elita's elegant legs as they slunk around his side, her clever fingers having found a bundle of sensitive cables to tweak that Optimus wouldn't have been able to reach.

" _Megatron_. We're actually _trying_ to include you. This isn't meant as torture or taunt for things you can't have." Elita knelt in front of him, blue optics Matrix-bright and intent, one hand curled around his jaw, thumb stroking his cheek. He frowned, perhaps agreeing that, since they'd drawn him in here at all, _inclusion_ was more probable than distant torture by the knowledge of what they were doing but not actually sharing it other than incidentally. Still, for the first time in a long, long time, he actually _cared_ about their relative positions and that it was thoroughly unlikely that he would ever be able to share this again with them while being present physically, and yet they'd chosen to go through with a full spark merge.

Not that he would not have done the same after such a long separation, but being the one left on the outside hardly left Megatron particularly well-disposed towards their enjoyment.

"We would like it if you let us---"

"If you're going to sound like a wounded protoform trying to beg for energon goodies, Prime, I'm going to demand to be let free and leave out of spite," Megatron said with a growl, giving Elita an arched look from under the edge of his helm. She barely managed to keep the answering smile off her faceplates, though he could still see it threaten to pull at her lips, and he could _feel it_ more than the suggestion on her face gave away. It was as amused as it mixed reprimand and longing, curling with imaginary warmth over his mind. It wasn't there, he knew, but he also knew what it would actually look and feel like. Optimus pulled his attention back as he made a noise behind him and then the unbelievable glitch _slapped his aft_.

Grunting, the force of it jolted Megatron forward into Elita's hand, her thumb scraping down to press against his lips instead. She met his dark stare and, with a little grin, pressed her thumb even more firmly against the soft metal, not _quite_ enough to force it past when he wasn't opening for her.

"I'd choose your words better if I were you, Megatron," Optimus purred, smug as could be while he stroked his hips, and while he couldn't reach as deep as Elita could, the warm strength of the movement turned into a deep pressure teasing his spark. Pressure that didn't exist, but spark dive meant the bond could relay more than distance would normally allow, and Megatron _was_ feeling the sensations. Engine revving - he'd deny the arousal, but the annoyances had been working up to that since they started spark-merging, so it was a bit too late for that - Megatron sneered. Elita finally smiled, a tiny, sharp grin while her fingers traced his expression with feathery preciseness.

"Oh, as if either of you got spark enough to _do something_ about an uppity prisoner." He yanked on the ropes as he spoke, but of course they didn't give, though that wasn't really the point. This was him giving them half of a pulse, his own arousal urging him to surrender that much and see what they would do with it. It wouldn't change that he wasn't there with them physically, and he didn't believe it would be particularly satisfying for him with the sensations relayed through a bond stretched by distance. All sensations would come from his own spark, mirroring and echoing the reactions Optimus and Elita were convincing his spark and body were happening. If he concentrated, let everything around him fall back into the insubstantial dream it was, he could even feel the faint flares of charges his spark was creating from the relayed connection.

"You heard that, brightspark?" Elita's smile now matched Optimus' earlier tone, and the laughter behind him curled like a low spectrum pulse of light around him. A hand followed in its wake, scraping along the edges of his hips, over the angles of his aft and then down _between_.

"I believe I did, yes. I think we should show him we're very serious about how we treat captives who don't cooperate."

Heat flared and tingled along every stretch of metal touched, Optimus' hand feeling around his closed interface array, Elita teasing her thumb over his lips and down his throat, pressing against thin, slatted metal. It was honestly rather impressive that the two of them were able to work so closely in tandem and reliably create actual physical response to what they were doing - this being in reality a general sort of stimulation with no actual focus, since they weren't _actually_ touching him.

Elita's hand on his throat tightened until the pulse of energon echoed in his head - it wasn't happening, and yet it felt _exactly_ like it would feel, and soon the energon-carrying cables were tingling from the pressure and Optimus' fingers pressed _just right_ to bare the array. Elita let up, and Megatron narrowed his optics.

"Stop that. Do we have to keep you too occupied to think, hmmm?" Elita sighed, swaying forward to brush an electric kiss to the thick planes of his helmet. Normally, he'd barely feel it, but there was _some_ advantage to both dream logic and that all sensations could and would be felt just as much as Optimus and Elita wished them to, unless he resisted. It was a possibility, but... Megatron twisted his lips into a grimace, and she pressed her thumb past it to catch against his teeth, tapping the tip of it to a fang.

"Given the distance and the setting, it's not particularly hard to keep some distance---!" He'd deny that he gasped even as he did it. Optimus skated charged fingertips, large and blunt and heavy, against sensitive folds of protoform metal and then up his spike, and he wasn't actually sure _how_ Optimus had the control to create the images-sensation to create something 'physical' out of what was decidedly _non-physical_.

"Clearly we _do_ ," Elita said with a shake of her head, mock-regret colouring her voice and faceplates both, and let her panel retreat at the same time Optimus closed his hand around his spike and hummed along the barrel of the cannon on his back. The sensation vibrated down through him, and this was still not physical in the least, but as Elita's spike pressed against his lips, it was getting increasingly more difficult to separate the physical reality of recharge and relayed charge and information from the sparkbond connection with the metaphysical reality Optimus and Elita had established.

"It seems that way, yes," Optimus agreed, chuckling against the cannon and Megatron twisted beneath another vibration just as it faded away, Optimus straightening up, "and I for one have no problems reminding our prisoner that his reality is exactly what we want it to be."

"And that he'll feel only what we want him to feel," Elita laughed, a vibrating, brassy sound that caressed him in a way even the physical noise could not have. Megatron would, again, deny that the scene they painted up with their words after going along with his own slagged description of the situation, helped to pull him in as much as the sensations themselves. It wouldn't happen in reality to any of them unless something went vastly wrong, but as a fantasy... well, perhaps it was something he'd indulged in, especially later in the war, though yet before the _Ark_ and the _Nemesis_ had crashed on Earth. It was harmless, even now, as long as they didn't realize what it was doing for him.

Maybe they'd noticed though, because at some point between Optimus' comment and Elita's laughter, the scene around them had shifted away from the warm nostalgia of the crystal garden, replaced by a meticulously recreated cell from, presumably, the bowels of the Autobot's Iacon stronghold. Gleaming energon ropes had been replaced by equally gleaming maglock chains, keeping him just as tied to the floor as before, even if the real reason for that hadn't changed at all. In a place like this, force of will trumped everything else. It was a distant thought however, Megatron for the first time since he 'woke up' here prioritizing what he was seeing and feeling instead of what he knew was _really_ going on.

He opened his mouth as Elita gently pressed her hips forward, less to invite her in and to remind her with proper bite that _that_ was hardly the way to treat a dangerous Decepticon prisoner they really shouldn't show courtesy to, but the sensation caught him for a crucial astrosecond. It did feel exactly like a spike, but at the same time there was a slight double pulse---

He grunted around the spike as Elita thrust in the rest of the way and at the same time Optimus did the same. At this point he was probably cooperating enough his own memory was supplying force and shape to the scene, because both spikes were decidedly familiar. Elita's long and slender, nearly _too long_ to be quite proportionate to her frame, several bulbs down along the length of it that gathered charge, prickling his tongue and throat. Optimus', in contrast, was decidedly shorter in comparison, but still large, and a lot thicker. Thick enough adjustment was slow as he pressed in, the whole length of it smooth. Everything sort of narrowed down and he hummed around the spike, closing his lips tight around the base and angling a little to get at the upper edge of Elita's valve, feeling static snap against his tongue.

Both Elita and Megatron gasped, Elita from Megatron swallowing around her spike and the probing around her valve, and Megatron from Optimus sliding in slowly, filling him up inexorably and hips rolling as he went. The flickering surge of energy was a two-pulse point that slammed through him, and as Elita and Optimus both drew back, the charge paused, hovering at the edge of his awareness, curled around his spark.

This was _not_ the same as the real thing, but the charge that their bond was conveying, faint and distant as the connection itself was, _was_ real. They both thrust in again, forcing themselves in with less finesse and more force than either had ever used before the war, no matter position, and the realization and sensation both raked down his thoughts and frame both. Elita's hands tightened on his shoulders, Optimus' on his hips to facilitate the rhythm they immediately established, keeping him locked between them more from their bodies than the chains, helpless to do anything but open up from both ends. Megatron twisted in their grip and let the growing, electrified charge wash over him, and it didn't even matter that it was mostly relayed and created by his own frame alone.

Overload still hit like a lightning strike, jolting him awake.

It was very displeasing to wake up alone, but he felt... heavy. Warm. Curiously light at wrists and ankles, even though the chains and ropes hadn't been real, and there were no scrapes or energon burns on his metal and there _wouldn't_ be. Sitting up slowly, Megatron rubbed his helm. The distant flicker of two sparks as close as they could be was... reassuring. Reinforcing that they hadn't meant this as a taunt over what he couldn't be there for, couldn't have, because no matter what this meant, this had been a momentary truce carved out between their sparks, nothing that would affect reality.

He knew, too, that they would refrain from sparkmerging from now on, at least for the foreseeable future, and the _solicitousness_ in that was as infuriating as his own weakness of having given in to it and taken this much enjoyment from it. He wouldn't touch the imagery the scene had taken on at all, for that was far too humiliating to think about. 

With a quiet growl Megatron stalked off to the adjoining washracks to get rid of the sudden tension and to ignore the pleased lassitude of the other two sparks that he could feel, allowing him to take part of that, too, as much as he could.

Cruelty and mercy in one.


End file.
